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How long can a moist berry,
Survive in a deciduous mind?
Who will protect the darling fruit,
From the starving soul?
So that it may ripen and bloom
Into full nutrition.
And once plucked from its juvenile branches,
May be squeezed into life.
Marrow of wisdom,
Concentrated, stinging, clear, precise
And pure.
Until truth flows through the air,
Trickling through the ages,
Landing on the newest fool,
For the harvest of the flies.
- by LunarSpooner |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 01/04/2009 |
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Comments (3 Comments)
- m u s ii q u e - 05/20/2009
- I'm guessing. But its a metaphor. Much like the work of William Blake. I guess its about life. Saying how maybe a perfect life is portrayed when a human child is born. But as the child grows the world dents scratches and bends this perfect image of life. Showing its easy to be born into this world. Just not so easy to live. Complete educated guess.
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- Hikaru1214 - 01/05/2009
- hey can u PM me and tell me what it means???Plz....
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